Movies.

`Cheerleader' Offers Message To Gay Teens

July 14, 2000|By Monica Eng, Tribune Staff Writer.

It's about the time we reach high school that certain decisions start to define us. Girls who join the cheerleading squad are presumed to be heading down a different sexual road than those who join the softball team. Ditto for boys who join the football team versus those who go out for modern dance.

But independent filmmaker Jamie Babbit is clever enough to know that high school is more about self-preservation than true self-expression, and that sexual indicators are not always what they seem.

In her debut feature "But I'm A Cheerleader," Babbit makes those points with style and humor, while skewering the anti-gay cabal that thinks it can "cure" homosexuality. Unfortunately, most of the best laughs and points are made within the first 20 minutes of the movie, leaving the rest to drag on with some fun set designs, occasional yuks and a weak, perfunctory love story.

As the film opens, Babbit's camera lovingly zooms in on trim cheerleading bodies as they flip, bounce and leap through the air. One of them belongs to Megan (Natasha Lyonne from "The Slums of Beverly Hills"), a sweet, endlessly cheerful blond who comes from a good Christian home and goes steady with Jared, the captain of the football team.

We soon sense, however, something's "wrong." When Megan starts to look bored and even a little grossed out by Jared's tongue gymnastics in her mouth, the only way she is able to stand the slurp-a-thon is to conjure up the images of her fellow cheerleaders.

When she gets home, her father, already questioning his daughter's sexuality, blesses their meat-and-potatoes meal with a prayer about accepting the roles God wants his children to take, hoping Megan will get the message. Not picking up on this clue, she retires to her room to do her homework under a poster of Melissa Etheridge. After breakfast the next morning, her parents notice a suspicious slice of tofu mixed in with her morning meal.

By the time she gets home from school, Megan finds that her friends and family have organized an all-out intervention to address her apparent homosexuality and convince her to enter rehab. As evidence of her sickness, Jared testifies that she doesn't like to kiss, a friend holds up a purloined picture of a woman from Megan's locker, her parents present the unfinished tofu and even bring forth the Etheridge poster. Case closed.

The next day, Megan agrees to enroll in the two-month homosexual cure program at True Directions, where the motto is "straight is great." RuPaul Charles (as a man) shows up as Mike the "ex-gay" boys camp counselor, while Cathy ("Raging Bull") Moriarity plays the merciless head mistress, Mary. The hunky Eddie Cibrian plays Mary's son Rock, a guy who favors skimpy shorts, fancy straws and disco dancing.

As Megan gets acquainted with her fellow campers (four boys and four girls) and they move through the five steps of the program, the plot starts to get stale. And despite Megan's sincere efforts to "cure herself," she ends up falling in love with fellow female camper Graham (Clea DuVall), a sullen, chain-smoking trust fund kid.

In many ways "Cheerleader" feels like a John Waters movie, with its vivid colors, wild set design, weird costumes (True Directions' male student graduate in electric blue leather suits) and campy performances. But unlike Waters' best work, "Cheerleader" fizzles out of fresh ideas early on, leaving you with a draggy plot and gags that don't get any funnier with repetition.

Moriarty, who showed great comedic timing in "Neighbors," plays her evil head mistress role with a little too much shrieking and menacing finger-waving. Lyonne, on the other hand, shows wonderful restraint as the wide-eyed, goody two shoes with the deep, raspy voice. Despite the surreal atmosphere, her dilemma feels genuine. When she has her first tender episode with Graham, she confesses that the only time she has felt that good is when she was cheering. And you believe her.

"Cheerleader" is certainly no comedic masterpiece, but it does offer a few fine moments of biting satire and a rare message to gay teens that they should just try to be themselves -- even if it is not immediately clear what that is.